the hills are alive

the hills are gone this morning. your logical mind dismisses it as a heavy fog brought on by a warm day in a cold season, but you know, the hills are gone. they surely woke up. stood. stretched & yawned & left on a walk about. the world ends there now, you think as you look at where there were once trees & is now nothing but white colored nothing.
why doesn’t anyone else see it?
the sleeping giants have gone adventuring & left an end to the world unguarded. a gateway to another place? you know the hills will return before the “fog” clears. you think about walking out…out to where the world now ends, but you are not ready.
not today.
not this time.

doodles

i am trying to stretch my brain
my abilities
i feel like there is more i can be doing
should be doing
with my art & writings….

as i doodled the above doodle (inspired by my 10 year old telling me that she saw one of the hills around us move), my two youngest watched & egged me on. it felt good. it made me wonder if maybe i should write & illustrate a children’s book…
at the very least, i want to be doing more comics.
and then there is the question of putting myself out there for other possibilities…facing my fears…self-promotion & all things scary….

not your problem

he is a problem
you cannot fix
a puzzle
you cannot solve
walk away, babe
walk away

so there is a serious decline in attention paid to me & my art & writings…which is kinda discouraging. hence my lack of color in this journal page.
luckily, my yogi tea keeps giving me support & love (i haven’t been drinking alcohol but have been drinking lots of tea–the yogi tea has little inspirational fortunes on every bag.)
i’m trying to stay motivated…but, then again, if no one is paying much attention to my obsessive journaling, maybe i need to start going in other directions. maybe i am stuck in a rut?
i am totally working on a novel. slowly.
& comics. slowly.
what else?
inkings with free verse (like my journal pages–but for sale!)

any suggestions? what do you all want to see from me?
xo

the narrative

“the night smelled of grapefruit–“

“Grapefruit?”

“yeah.”

“Really…grapefruit?”

“it’s my story; i can make the night smell any way i want.”

“But grapefruit is more of a morning smell.”

“maybe that’s the point.”

“I’m just saying.”

“what do you want? tangerine? clementine?”

“At least clementine is ambiguous…but why does it have to be citrus at all?”

“because that is what the night smelled like!”

“How about the night smelled of pine & fertile soil?”

“that is a completely different story.”

dialogue has always been my favorite part about writing. maybe because of all the voices in my head? this is a conversation i played in my head one night after i smelled a citrusy evening. i am also drawn more to works that contain more dialogue than description. waiting for godot was a favorite of mine. also rosencrantz & gildenstern are dead.
once upon a time i thought i would like to write screen plays…but then i got distracted by comics.
i just love a good conversation.

the world is a stage

my life is full time
LARPing
one of the things i actually
enjoy
about motherhood

i said the thing about LARPing to my ex the other day as i was wearing my “utility belt” with my bokken tucked into it. i have goggles, tiaras, tutus, boots, belts, hats, and a variety of real & toy weapons that i play with.
life is a dress up party. or (from a poem i once wrote) every day is halloween.

we have friends who LARP (live action role playing for y’all who aren’t nerds)…but i am not sure i ever stop role playing. maybe there is a term for this? motherhood?

i think i channeled some shel silverstein in this quick comic doodle.

punishment doughnuts

that’s what we called them when he brought them home to us in that plain white box that meant one thing:
doughnuts!
except this plain white box held plain cake doughnuts…no frosting. no sprinkles. no custard….
doughnuts….
we imagined them to be the doughnuts one bought to say:
“you did a subpar job”
“you barely passed your exams”
“it’s not me; it’s you”
punishment doughnuts

first world problems, i know, but it is now an inside joke with my oldest son ever since my ex brought us home a box of plain cake doughnuts. they actually weren’t that bad once we got past the disappointment of them not being chocolate.

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